Play Galerians. It's a kickass PlayStation game. Really.
Dogwhistle
Daisuke ambled to Ken's front door and raised his hand to knock. Paused. Lately their relationship had been deteriorating at an alarming rate. Ken would be kind one moment, full of life and energy and the very spirit of fun, and the next he would snap, snarl and retreat from even his friend's touch.
Daisuke found that his breath was held, even though he knew no one could hear. Did Ken even like him any longer? He didn't understand why Ken wouldn't meet his eyes. Daisuke's innards twisted and curled around each other, vying to be the one to make the boy expel his entire breakfast.
What had he done wrong?
Why didn't Ken want to be near him any longer?
Slowly, Daisuke dropped his arm to his side. His hand hung limply as he turned and walked away through the gray afternoon drizzle. Every so often, he would send a half-hearted kick to the dead leaves in the gutter and flash a look over his shoulder at Ken's apartment, where he knew the boy's bedroom window was.
Something was wrong here. Very wrong indeed.
*
Ken stepped back and let the blind cover the glass again. Of course Daisuke left! Only because he, Ken, had been so horrible to him! His teeth ground together in a low 'goro-goro' as he backed away and flopped onto his bed. It was his fault, of course. All his eyes ever saw was the perfection everyone so casually assumed. *They* didn't have these thoughts in their head, or these cuts on their arms.
Ken's cheek pressed into the sheets as he rolled to his side and stared with dead eyes at the wall.
And of course Daisuke wouldn't press the issue. Why would anyone waste time on a thing like him?
He wished he had something sharp, something metal.
Something clean.
*
No one at school bothered talking much to Ken, as when they tried (he looked very kind) an invisible brick wall would erect itself behind his eyes. Why didn't they just leave him alone? Couldn't they see how horrible he was? Couldn't they see that he wasn't worth talking to in the least?
Of course not.
They may have been perfect, but they were stupid.
He dug the lead of his pencil into his notepaper until it snapped. Your insides weren't supposed to fight against each other like this, were they? Were you *supposed* to feel as if you were being torn into two different people all the time? Was this just some kind of adolescent thing that would go away in time?
Ken wanted to cry, but there were other students nearby. He wanted to go home, but it was only third period. He wanted to scream, but his pride kept that stupid blank smile on his face and his motions carefully controlled.
And of course, no one noticed. Why would they? Sit down with someone for lunch, why don't you, and ask them to tell you all their problems. Ninety- nine times out of one hundred, you'll leave that place thankful that you aren't them. Everyone else had their plates full, who could bother with one child? Especially Ken. Ken was brilliant, remember, so he ought to be able to handle something as simple as this.
No one noticed at all.
Except for one.
Dogwhistle
Daisuke ambled to Ken's front door and raised his hand to knock. Paused. Lately their relationship had been deteriorating at an alarming rate. Ken would be kind one moment, full of life and energy and the very spirit of fun, and the next he would snap, snarl and retreat from even his friend's touch.
Daisuke found that his breath was held, even though he knew no one could hear. Did Ken even like him any longer? He didn't understand why Ken wouldn't meet his eyes. Daisuke's innards twisted and curled around each other, vying to be the one to make the boy expel his entire breakfast.
What had he done wrong?
Why didn't Ken want to be near him any longer?
Slowly, Daisuke dropped his arm to his side. His hand hung limply as he turned and walked away through the gray afternoon drizzle. Every so often, he would send a half-hearted kick to the dead leaves in the gutter and flash a look over his shoulder at Ken's apartment, where he knew the boy's bedroom window was.
Something was wrong here. Very wrong indeed.
*
Ken stepped back and let the blind cover the glass again. Of course Daisuke left! Only because he, Ken, had been so horrible to him! His teeth ground together in a low 'goro-goro' as he backed away and flopped onto his bed. It was his fault, of course. All his eyes ever saw was the perfection everyone so casually assumed. *They* didn't have these thoughts in their head, or these cuts on their arms.
Ken's cheek pressed into the sheets as he rolled to his side and stared with dead eyes at the wall.
And of course Daisuke wouldn't press the issue. Why would anyone waste time on a thing like him?
He wished he had something sharp, something metal.
Something clean.
*
No one at school bothered talking much to Ken, as when they tried (he looked very kind) an invisible brick wall would erect itself behind his eyes. Why didn't they just leave him alone? Couldn't they see how horrible he was? Couldn't they see that he wasn't worth talking to in the least?
Of course not.
They may have been perfect, but they were stupid.
He dug the lead of his pencil into his notepaper until it snapped. Your insides weren't supposed to fight against each other like this, were they? Were you *supposed* to feel as if you were being torn into two different people all the time? Was this just some kind of adolescent thing that would go away in time?
Ken wanted to cry, but there were other students nearby. He wanted to go home, but it was only third period. He wanted to scream, but his pride kept that stupid blank smile on his face and his motions carefully controlled.
And of course, no one noticed. Why would they? Sit down with someone for lunch, why don't you, and ask them to tell you all their problems. Ninety- nine times out of one hundred, you'll leave that place thankful that you aren't them. Everyone else had their plates full, who could bother with one child? Especially Ken. Ken was brilliant, remember, so he ought to be able to handle something as simple as this.
No one noticed at all.
Except for one.
